Read Online Night Hawk'S Bride (Tyler) (Harlequin Historical Series, No 558) by Jillian Hart - Free Book Online Page B

for her people and the settlers, bringing teachers and trying to make a community where everyone belonged—whether they spoke German, Swedish, English or Sauk.
    â€œI won’t hurt him, I promise.” Marie spoke the words sincerely, meaning them with her entire heart. “I’m only buying a horse from him.”
    â€œBut there is more.” Spring Rain set down her cup, the cookies forgotten. “He has known many heartaches and losses. He is alone and that is not good for a man capable of great tenderness. You may not see what I do, but you can hurt him. I came to ask that you think on what I’ve said.”
    Genuine concern filled the woman’s eyes. She nodded once and left with the whisper of deerskin and the pad of moccasins.
    Marie stood and pulled the edge of the curtain back. Four boys and a girl stood quietly in the shade of a sugar maple just outside the schoolyard. Spring Rain hurried to them, head down as if she still struggled with her emotion. The little girl with twin black braids looked up at the schoolhouse and waved.
    Marie waved back, her heart heavy. She hadn’t realized all that was at stake in this settlement where so many different people had come to make a better life.
    This surely was a place where a woman like her could fall in love with a man like Night Hawk. Without consequences. Without prejudices. Without causing harm.
    Still, the memory of Spring Rain’s concern remained in Marie’s thoughts the rest of the morning.
    Â 
    â€œThat’s right, Kammeo,” Night Hawk praised as he tightened the cinch. “Marie, hold her tighter.”
    â€œShe’s starting to shy.”
    â€œJust speak calmly to her.” Night Hawk remained at Kammeo’s side, close enough to reach the leather reins in case Marie had any trouble.
    She uttered soft, soothing words that reassured the mare, who wasn’t sure about the leather thing resting on her back.
    â€œGood Kammeo, good girl.” Marie circled past him, tossing him a victorious smile. Her skirts swirled around her ankles, gracefully hugging her soft hips and lean thighs.
    Fire ignited into a sharp physical want. The blood thickened in his veins.
    What was wrong with him? He had better control than that. He fought it, but the drum of desire within him remained.
    â€œI brought tarts today,” Marie informed him as they finished currying Kammeo after her training session. “I picked the apples this morning.”
    â€œMrs. Olstad let you in her kitchen?”
    â€œNot yet. She baked for me and complained thewhole time.” Marie ran her fingers across the mare’s neck. Soft, supple fingers that stroked and caressed.
    What would it be like to know her touch? To feel the satin heat of her skin to his? A groan rose in his throat and he turned away, hauling the saddle to the stable to hide his response. Every step away from her brought him only distance but no relief.
    She wasn’t meant to be his, but still his body yearned to know her touch on his skin.
    This is crazy, he told himself. No good could come of these feelings. He wasn’t the sort of man she was looking for. He knew without asking. Allowing these feelings of love and attraction to flourish would cause him grief and nothing more.
    He’d be logical, not emotional. Sensible, and force out his physical attraction to her. That’s what he’d do.
    When he returned from the barn and saw Marie laying out her red checked blanket in his shaded front yard, all reason fled. Desire for her flared like a windswept firestorm, incinerating every good intention.
    He wanted her. The way a man wanted a woman. Fierce and sweet, fiery and tender and all-consuming. He could no longer lie to himself. Denying his lust for her wouldn’t extinguish it.
    â€œMeka!” Marie’s carefree scolding was accompanied by a chuckle. “Out of my basket, right now. You’ll wait for your treat like everyone